


No More Lies

by CapriciousVanity



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 00:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2711936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapriciousVanity/pseuds/CapriciousVanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People often tell lies to make each other feel better. Cole feels that lies now leads to more pain and hurt later. Cullen has been warming up to Cole, considering he trusts the Inquisitor's choices in companions. Cole can feel his emotions and thoughts, however, which is unsettling. Cullen realizes he must be cautious with the words he chooses - Cole has a habit of taking things literally, or worse, taking everything to heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No More Lies

Cole sat along the steps of Skyhold, kneeling by a few unaware persons talking about how lovely the sunset was there compared to Haven. He was invisible. He made them forget him when they saw him - a rare occurrence. He mumbled phrases of the others’ thoughts to himself, scanning through their hearts for despair or sadness. He wanted to help end their suffering. Once or twice, he and The Iron Bull had discussed it; the Qun’s concept of Suffering versus his own. The Iron Bull may not be a strict follower, but the spirit was frustrating. Still, The Iron Bull would slap his hand on the boy’s shoulder, gaining an odd reaction the first time: Cole flinched and asked him why he did that. Bull had apologized, but tried and failed to explain to Cole know that it was a friendly gesture – to “trust him.” Cole corrected him, “Of course I trust you,” he said. The Iron Bull just told him not to be so sappy.

Cole’s quiet mutterings were lost to the wind. A shadow hovered over him.

“Curiosity, anger, frustration… Deep tightness at the chest, heavy breathing, stifling. The situation is dire, there are no breaths to take… No room for much else… Hm?”

Cole finally looked up to see Cullen, arms crossed but expression soft, almost worried. Definitely worried. Confused, curious, frustrated –  _tired_.

“Cole?  - It’s, Cole, yes? – Are you alright?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You looked… Distant.”

“I’m right here.”

“I know, what I meant was…  _Sigh_ , no, nevermind. Would you care to walk with me to my office?”

“I would care, yes.”

“I mean…”

“Sadness, and confusion. I feel so sorry, now. I have to speak more clearly… No, I know what you mean. I’ll go with you then.”

Cullen felt a mixture of emotions he did not want to admit to, that of dread, fear, confusion, and other things. He knew Cole felt them, and that very thought caused his emotions to stir, but stir more because he knew Cole would feel that, too. He found it hard to follow along with Cole’s form of speech, his talking-aloud and then answering himself. It was hard to pick out when, exactly, he was speaking Cullen's thoughts and answering them.

Cole pushed himself up by his knees, ignoring Cullen’s hand. He didn't bother to dust himself off. Cullen ignored the dirt that stuck to the young man's knees. Everyone here was as bloody, dirty, and sweaty as a nug put up to be butchered. 

Cole walked on beside the man, not noticing, or ignoring, Cullen’s attempt to peek under his hat. The way Cole's lanky form hunched, it was hard to see his face, though if it wasn't his hat, it would then be his disheveled, straw hair. He was something like a scarecrow, Cullen mused. He was on his way to his office when he happened to noticed the spirit sitting, invisible to many around him. He imagined Cole was probably a lonely person, sometimes, although he wasn’t sure if Cole actually felt so himself. He would just… Stand about, shifting his weight but never seemed uncomfortable anywhere. But, he never seemed comfortable, either. Just an entity passing by in this world in a most neutral position. 

Cole began to murmur again.

“Tiring trivialities to tend to… Lukewarm beds, tough food, but I’ll be strong. For them, I’ll be strong.”

Cullen became stiff. Those were his own thoughts.

“I am sorry. I want to help. I make you uncomfortable. I think I know why... I make  _people_  uncomfortable. It’s because I’m a demon, isn’t it?”

Cullen’s hands linked behind his back.

“Or Spirit. You don't know, do you, Cole? It’s just…”

“A person who can read you," Cole said, assuredly. "The thought of it, the idea of it... It's frightening, confusing, but also… Relieving? Does it relieve you?”

“Yes, I suppose it does. It’s unsettling, sometimes, though, hearing your thoughts  _outside_  of your mind.”

“Sorry. But that's good. You fear judgment, but I don’t judge. I help.”

“Yes, you… You say that. And I believe it, I do.”

Cullen tried to gather his thoughts. Cole wasn’t able to read them, it faded away from him, but others – he felt the others.

“Cole?” Cullen finally said.

“That is my name, yes.”

Cullen sighed. Cole wasn’t as stupid as he pretended to be, he knew that.

“Ass,” he said under his breath. He continued, “You’re… from the Fade. Spirit or demon, there are many who speak cautiously of you, and I can’t just dismiss my men’s suspicions.”

“Oh.”

They trotted up the stone stairway and along the wall towards Cullen’s office.

“Some people don’t know who you are, and yet I’ve seen them talking with you.”

“They don’t remember me.”

“Yes… Why is that?”

“I make them forget.”

“But why?”

“It’s frightening.”

“For them?”

“That, too.”

Cullen opened the wooden door to his office, gesturing for Cole. The tall, awkward boy made his way inside, his odd, wobbly swagger stepped over a few papers and books.

“Will I remember you until our next meeting?”

“Probably.”

Cullen turned a small figurine on his desk with no real purpose other than to occupy himself. He sat, not realizing how much he ached until he did so.

“Is it the Lyrium?”

“What?”

“Aching after every step. No longer a part of what I was once, no longer belonging, no leader but our own. They will not control me. Not after… Illusions impairing initial thoughts, everything a dream.  What is real? What isn’t? No, there aren’t any more Wardens, you can’t be one, you aren’t one.”

“Cole, stop this.”

“Wardens warring with wretches,  _that_  is who  _you_  are. Not real, not real, if I don’t believe, it will go away. But it didn’t. Kill them, kill them all. Destroy the Tower, kill Uldred. Kill him and all the bloody bastards! I’m so sorry. You have come a long way.”

Cullen felt the memories flood back into him – trapped in that magical barrier, shown visions of hope only to watch them scatter and die like the fleeting dreams they were. All because of those damned  _blood_  mages in the Tower. He rubbed his temple. No, don't remember...

“Why did you use Lyrium?”

Cole's question brought him from the past. He took a moment to answer.

“...It was part of the Templar Order.”

“Why is that? Does it let you cast spells?”

“No, it doesn’t. Not really… As a Templar, former Templar that is, we were given the stuff to help aid our talents. We could, in a way, shut down the magic of mages for a time, or delay their spells. We were told the Lyrium enhances that ability, but it is also a way of control. The Chantry controls us with it. It leaves us addicted and… It can cause madness or an early grave.”

“And you stopped taking it because of that?”

“I didn’t want to be controlled by the Order I’m no longer part of. I’m part of the Inquisition, now.”

“But it pains you. It hurts, every waking moment. It’s something that will never go away, only to be lived with. Like a guest overstaying they’re welcome.”

Cullen never failed to smile at the spirit’s metaphors, regardless of how inapt they seemed. Cole’s words were often perfect for the given situation, but how he went about saying them was absurd on occasion.

“I’ll be fine. Honest.”

Cullen meant to give Cole a friendly reassurance, only to see him frown sadly again.

“Why do people do that?”

“I’m sorry..?”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I was just curious is all.”

“No… Cole. What do people do? What are you talking about?”

“You lie… You lie when you say things like that.  _I’m fine_ , or  _Everything will be okay_. You say them when you don’t mean them instead of doing something about it. It must hurt to say those things when you know they aren’t true. When people find out about those lies, they feel bad, too. So why lie? Why lie to yourself and to other people? When you try to make them feel better, they feel worse in the end.”

“It isn’t that simple, Cole…”

“It isn’t? Then why lie like that?”

“Reassurance. People want to hear good things. You should know that.”

“And then you lied to me.”

Cole sounded accusatory. It was something Cullen didn't expect. Was he really worked up over such small figures of speech and slips of the tongue? He was austere at times, and it was distressing. He wondered if those feelings were just as bothersome for Cole to feel.

“I’d rather you not worry.”

“But I do.”

“I know, Cole.”

Cullen’s voice grew quieter, more somber.

“I’m sorry… I’ll try not to lie to you again.”

“Is it so hard that you have to actually _try_ not to?”

Cullen rubbed his hands and shifted. Cole was making this difficult; he was doing his best to remain patient with the young man.

“I’m sorry. My wording is poor… I should speak more clearly around you. I forget, sometimes.”

“Everyone does… But that’s how it should be, right? No more lies, then…”

The last sentence sounded like an afterthought. Cullen nodded.

“I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Cole’s tone sounded so  _completely_  genuine that Cullen wondered if he was really so bothered by his misspoken ‘lies.’ He was both delicate as silk, and just as strong. Cullen caught these thoughts and hoped the witch-boy did not sense them. Cullen looked over a letter on his desk atop the pile of things Josephine had given him. He sighed.

Cole waited patiently. His silence was never awkward. It was as if he wasn’t there most of the time. Cullen never felt the urge to talk out of necessity, to break the silence, but words sometimes spilled from him easier than he’d like to admit around the spirit. Was it his ability? Or part of his natural aura?

“I… Should get back to my duties. We’ll talk later.”

“How do you know?”

Cullen smiled but did not look back to Cole.

The spirit wandered out, but Cullen didn’t recall hearing the door. Well, Cole  _was_  a spirit. He figured the young man could just wander through the walls at his will. It was a gift that, the more Cullen thought about, the deadlier Cole seemed. He’d been a murderer, and that did more than make Cullen uneasy, but with proper guidance and direction, Cole could be an invaluable ally to the Inquisition. It would be best not to get on his bad side. Did he even have one? Cullen figured not, but Cole was something complex – some _one_ , complex. The former Templar was constantly reminded himself not to refer to Cole as something sub-human. He wasn’t so terrible.


	2. Lyrium and Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole does strange things that end up being helpful. Cullen is in Pain. Cole doesn't understand why he won't use Lyrium to help.

 “That _Cole_ is dangerous. He can simply erase himself from our minds, how does that not bother you?”

“I never said it didn’t bother me. But he is a part of the Inquisition and I respect the judgment of our Inquisitor.”

“I… Yes. You are right. But I still believe we should be cautious of him.”

Cassandra crossed her arms in thought as Cullen sat at his desk. There was a breeze today that caused a few papers to scatter for him to pick up. Luckily Cassandra had caught them on her way inside.

“No, I agree. We keep the company of a colorful group… A Tevinter Mage, Qunari Mercenary – _and_ spy – elven apostate… Cole has… Strange abilities. But he means well, from what I’ve gathered. I won’t tell you not to be cautious, however...”

“Of course. Thank you… He… Disturbs me. He is of the Fade and he is in human form, but he is not possessing a body. It is unheard of, even to Solas. I’ve spoken with him about the spirit. He does not believe he is dangerous either, but a spirit of empathetic abilities. Compassion, even.”

Cullen supposed that would make sense. Cole doesn’t seem to remember if he were a demon or spirit, let alone what kind of either.

“Do you really think he is that much of a threat? He does… Odd things, certainly, but he has helped us so far. He always mutters that, doesn’t he. ‘ _I want to help_ ,’ he says.”

“He says that, but he is still a spirit. He may not know what that could entail.”

Cullen gestured with his hand.

“He’s killed a few of our dying soldiers out of mercy.”

“That’s part of what bothers me.”

“What do you mean?”

Cassandra shifted her weight, looking for the words to make Cullen see her side.

“He believes in mercy killing. Many would. He also claims to feel and hear the thoughts and emotions of people. Is it possible that he would confuse these feelings and thoughts and kill someone because he felt it was just? Despite other options?”

Cullen gave her a short laugh, receiving that scary, narrow-eyed look from her.

“Sorry, I just… Seeker, that is question you would ask anyone. Think of the last time you slit a dying soldier’s throat to end his suffering. Was it just? Was it against better judgment? It’s something we _all_ go through. Cole is no different, at least in that area. Although, he does have his… Strange ways…”

“To put it lightly.”

“I suppose.”

In a short silence, Seeker Cassandra sighed.

“I must apologize.”

“For what, Cassandra?”

“For bothering you with such trivialities. I will respect the Inquisitor’s choices, as you’ve said yourself.”

“I don’t doubt you. Perhaps talking with him will help settle your mind.”

“The Inquisitor?”

“No, I mean Cole. I’ve… Spoken with him. Or, rather, he’s come to me in the middle of the night twice or thrice, offering advice I’m too tired to listen to. He’s not so bad, just… Out of place. Needs to learn that one doesn’t like to be woken from a deep rest just to hear mutterings about their troubled past, but other than that he’s… He’s like a child. He’s new to this world, he doesn’t know how it works just yet. Give him time.”

Cassandra quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m surprised you’ve given him so much thought.”

Cullen folded his hands together atop his desk. He _has_ thought much about Cole, hasn’t he…

“It isn’t that I’ve done so willingly. I’ve gotten used to his wandering. Don’t get me wrong, you have every right to be cautious of him. I still am, but… Solas has made a point in that he must be equally as cautious of us. He’s lost everything he’s had many times over. We all can relate to that, at least.”

“Of course. I thank you for your time. I think… I will go look for him now. Would you know where I can find him?”

“Last I heard, he was hoarding daggers and hiding them in barrels. Other than that, you’ll probably have to ask around.”

Cassandra shook her head, arms lifting from her side just slightly.

“A man who erases his memory from people’s minds and I have to ask if anyone’s seen him.”

Cullen laughed and cleared his throat as Cassandra left. He looked over a letter from his sister he had gotten a week ago. He hasn’t written back, still nervous about what to say and her reply. He supposed it’d be better to gather his words before he started writing. No need to waste the paper needed for the Inquisition.

Cullen had ordered a small gathering of his men to escort a few caravans for a noble family traveling from Orlais. Josephine was out on her own mission and Leliana decided not to take part. It was easy enough – those nobles are paranoid, but for good reason. Their cutthroat society reminded Cullen all too much of the blood mages he’s encountered in Fereldon before, when he was a Templar at the Circle of Magi. Thinking about it brought back a certain bitterness for mages in general, but hearing Solas’ stories or the reassurances from His Worship, the Inquisitor, brought him back to ease.

An ease he desperately needed to get to sleep. His office and its tower were not yet repaired, so he strolled down the steps, past the lively tavern that echoed drunken songs, and into Skyhold itself for his temporary quarters. A chill breezed past him, as if someone walked by. He looked back and saw that it was Cole, already far away. What was he carrying? Lemons? He hoped it wasn’t going to smell as bad as the turnip thing, but he was certain that, given the past events at Skyhold, he wouldn’t waste the energy unless it was important.

That was a worry for another time. Perhaps he’ll hear about some lemon poultices or something later. Bemused by the thought, Cullen dragged himself past his door and to his bed, sitting there to remove his armor. He didn’t bother hanging it like usual. He just let it rest on the floor. Oh damn… The moon was half full and, while it may have been beautiful if he cared enough to notice, the light was shining _right_ on his pillow. He hung a loose blanket over the window in place of curtains. The moment his head touched the pillow, he was out cold. It had been quite some time since he’s been on a battlefield, even before the wreckage of Haven, but the toll of being an adviser to the Inquisitor raked at his mind, body, and spirit.

~*~

Cullen woke with a start, reflexively reaching for his dagger. Not only was it gone, Cole was sitting by his bedside in a chair, holding the edge to his fingertip, ignoring the beads of blood.

Cullen was in a daze, looking at his surroundings. He seemed to have forgotten he was at Skyhold, yet again. Another nightmare? It slipped away. He’d rather not try to remember it at all, if possible.

“Cole..?”

Did Cole sense it? Did he come all the way here just for that?

“Yes. You’re here and this is real. This isn’t a Fade Dream… You are here, you are with the Inquisition. Is it painful? You stopped after that… The white hot pounding in your head – it lasted for weeks. You wanted to kill, you wanted to murder something, someone, anything really. It eventually weakened, but so did you.”

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyes were heavy and his body was in pain. It was too damn early to be listening to the kid ramble on. And much too early for Cullen to be rightfully upset about what he was saying. He just wanted rest. Though… This was real. He questioned the reality of the Inquisition every now and again.

“ _Cole_.”

His voice was stern and caused the spirit stop midway his thought-reading.

“I am sorry. Let me try again—”

“ _No_ , Cole. No. I’m fine. No, I’m sorry, that’s lying to you again, isn’t it? I’ll _be_ fine. That was a long time ago and I’ve survived this far. Please, just… Let me get some rest.”

Cole held the dagger in his lap, hat tilted over his face, impossible for Cullen to see his expression. Cullen closed his eyes, not caring any longer that Cole had gotten into his room, not bothering with asking why he was holding his dagger. That was how Cole was, doing strange things that often had a greater meaning.

Cole sat quiet for a long spread of time, longer than Cullen had the capability to stay awake for.

“…All right,” he finally said, even though Cullen has fallen back to sleep. He stood slowly and set the dagger atop the night stand.

The slightest blue-white hummed in the blade. He wondered if Cullen even noticed it.

~*~

Cullen held the pommel of his sword, resting his arm. The advisers has been summoned to the war room to discuss the recent findings on Rhys and Evangeline, received word from a possible Qunari alliance, and going over the red Lyrium vein locations for Varric’s –  and everyone else’s – sake.

“There’s a bit of a chill…” Leliana muttered to herself while Josephine wrote her notes.

“There’s a draft,” Cassandra replied.

“I’m worried about the papers blowing away.”

The Inquisitor decided to take Solas, Dorian, and Vivienne with him to the Hinterlands. The three mages were very capable, but Cullen had wondered as to how they even stayed alive without the brute strength of The Iron Bull or their Warden friend, Blackwall. He supposed it was his personal bias, favoring the warriors of the group. But the rogues… He knew little about how one would go about being a thief, or a hunter, assassin, or ranger… Varric and Sera were very different, though most would consider them the same when it came down to roles. But Cole… Cole was mistaken for a mage – technically, he was once a hedge witch. Solas insisted he wasn’t fond of the term when asked, and simply refered to Cole as the rogue he chose to be. Cullen thought it strange he’d prefer “apostate” over “witch.” At least “hedge” made it sound less deadly, but how would he know what the implications meant? _He_ wasn’t a mage. Thank the Maker he wasn’t born a mage.

He was stopped by scouts and messengers, updating him on news of the Venatori and possible Red Lyrium chasms. It was about time to train the newest recruits, now…

With the help of Blackwall, they were both able to split the soldiers into more manageable groups and work out a system. Blackwall was usually a composed man, but his voice carried all the way to the other end of the field as he yelled. Cullen was stern, but was slightly less… Aggressive. So far, they were learning how to counter various shield blocks, starting with easier sword swipes across. They were improving, at least most of them were. But they were all dedicated, and Cullen made sure their dedication didn’t go to waste.

“You train your soldiers well,” Cullen told Blackwall as they stood back to watch the practice.

“Ah, thank you. I usually hope I’m not being too hard on them.”

Cullen laughed. “No, not at all. They need at least one hard ass on them.”

Blackwall crossed his arms, grinning. “I suppose they do.”

His smile faded as he looked off to the side.

“Ser Blackwall? What is it?”

The Warden motioned his chin. Cullen looked and saw Cole holding a jar, kneeling by the stables as he dug around the tall grass. Was he… Picking bugs?

“I don’t trust him. He’s a tricky one. I wouldn’t turn my back on him.”

“Ah, you too, then?”

“You don’t think so?”

“Well, no, I don’t think we shouldn’t… _Not_ , be suspicious of him. But this is a different world to him. He’s walking it the best way he knows how, I imagine.”

“I suppose you’re right. But that many daggers on him? Makes a man nervous.”

Cullen furrowed his brow, crossing his arms.

“He _does_ have a fascination with daggers, doesn’t he…”

“Did you hear about him stealing daggers from the guardsmen?”

“Yeah, actually. But he did it for a reason.”

“Did he?” Blackwall snorted.

“I overheard one of our residents that the guards got into an argument, one reached for his dagger—”

“What? Really?!”

“Yes. But his dagger wasn’t there. People say they saw a man take it right out of his belt, but they don’t remember who. I took it that it was Cole’s doing. That he somehow knew it would happen.”

“And, those lemons?”

“Lemons..? Oh, right. That was a new one. He’d been putting lemons in with soap. People have been complaining about the vinegar smell, and the fact it doesn’t clean sometimes. Apparently the lemons helped with it or something. Makes it smell better, too.”

“That boy’s a strange one.”

Cullen nodded.

“I know you've many duties to attend to. I can keep the recruits busy here, Ser Cullen.”

“Ah, thank you, Blackwall. I really should get back to my work… Too many letters to haughty nobles and possible alliances.”

“Isn’t that usually Josephine’s concern?”

“They’re asking for soldiers and caravans and the like. I usually look it over and we both come to an agreement whether or not it’s worth the trouble.”

“Ah.”

“Well, I’ll be seeing you later, then.”

“Goodbye.”

Cullen rested his arm against his pommel, leaving Blackwall’s side. He glanced to the stables and Cole was no longer there. He strolled by the grounds and walked up the stairs. He needed a drink first. The tavern was warm and lively with voices and song. He ordered himself a drink and wandered upstairs, the quickest route to the wall towards his office. He got to the top floor, about to open the door on his way out when he saw Cole sitting by barrels. He sat with the beam of the roof between his legs, leaning against it as he looked down to the people below.

Closing the door, Cullen went to his side, standing by him.

“Why not join them?” He asked.

Cole tilted his head.

“I like sitting here. They lose their troubles and drown themselves in passion and music. It’s… Exhilarating. I might get too excited if I go down.”

Cullen smiled.

“And what exactly does that mean?”

“I don’t know. But I feel like I’d lose myself in their merriment. It’s theirs, not mine.”

“A drink wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

“Would it?”

“Aha, I mean… Here.”

Cullen sat beside Cole, legs hanging over the edge, careful not to spill. He handed the glass to Cole. He took a drink from it absently before retracting.

“Don’t like it?”

“It burns…”

“That’d be the alcohol.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you like it?”

“The taste? No. I don’t think many people enjoy the taste. It’s meant for its effects.”

“Forgetting fears for flasks and festivities, drinking and dining and daring to delude themselves. At least they’re happy.”

Cole tapped his fingers on the glass of Cullen’s drink. He looked down at it before handing it back.

Cullen couldn’t place it. Cole always seemed so sad, on the outside at least. He’s asked him before, but Cole assures him he’s fine – happy, in fact, because he is here to help others.

“I saw you with a jar by the stables. What were you doing?”

“I was gathering the stars.”

“Did… Something fall from the sky?”

“No?”

Cullen figured he’d find out sooner or later what Cole was actually doing.

“Well… Anyway, I must get back to my work. I just needed a drink. If you ever need company, don’t hesitate to come by.”

“I woudn’t want to distract from your work.”

“It would be a pleasant distraction.”

“Would it?”

Had he really said that? Cullen stood, unsure what to gather from Cole’s lack of expression in their conversations.

“I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“Maybe.”

Cullen gave Cole another glance. He just kicked his leg, tapping his heel against the wood in time to something that was probably in his head. He left back out to the brisk air and across the wall to his office. His aching was less noticeable today, but the very moment it crossed his mind, his bones, muscles, everything hurt again. He could almost hear his hand creak as he reached for the knob. He sighed. Although, there was a place at his hip that never quite hurt the way the rest of him did. It was annoying, but also relieving.

He didn’t get around to the chair when he heard the door.

He saw Cole fidgeting his fingers with that expression of care and worry he usually carried with him.

“You’re hurting again…”

Don’t lie.

“I will manage.”

“If you’d start using Lyrium again, the pain would go away, wouldn’t it?”

“ _Cole_.”

“It wouldn’t hurt anymore. It would help you.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Cullen sneered more than he meant to.

“You’re lying again!”

“Cole, if you came in here just to tell me I should become an addict again—”

“You’re in pain. Lyrium will help.”

“So what if it does?! I would rather keep my mind intact and feel pain than become a slave to it, again!”

“It hurts so much… Bending, breaking, bruising agony—”

“Al _right_ , Cole!” Cullen raised his voice, making the spirit flinch and step back.

“It hurts constantly! My bones hurt, my muscles are sore, and I can feel my _veins_ , Cole. I can feel the _blood_ pumping in my _veins_. Every beat of my heart is painful, every breath is painful, every motion and movement is, guess what! Painful! Is _that_ what you wanted to know?! That I’m in constant pain every waking moment?!”

“I want to stop the hurting…”

Cole’s voice was quiet, timid.

“Well you _can’t_ , Cole. You can’t. Lyrium will help the pain, but at what risk? My sanity? Addiction? I fought that long ago, I don’t wish to be a part of it anymore!”

“The dagger…”

“ _What_ about it?!”

“I-it’s interlaced with Lyrium… Doesn’t it help…?”

“What?”

Cullen, still furious, took his dagger from his belt. Cole’s lips parted at the sight of it. He could hear its hum.

“It sings… It has Lyrium inside of it. You don’t have it because of that?”

Cullen couldn’t believe it. It had been a parting gift from the Order. Of _course_ it had Lyrium in it. Cole approached him, hand out to touch the blade. The blue glitter of Lyrium ran up the entirety of the blade. Cole’s hands, cold yet gentle, touched Cullen’s and took the dagger from him in careful movements. He brought out his own from his calf. It was about the same size, possibly a little heavier. He held out the handle to Cullen.

“Just a normal blade…” He whispered.

Cullen took it, eyeing the glowing dagger Cole had taken. He slipped it to the sheath at his leg.

“I have to go catch stars,” said Cole, turning to leave.

“I’m sorry.”

Cole stopped, his back to Cullen, but did not look at him.

“For what?”

“For yelling at you. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“…”

Cullen slipped the dagger into his belt, walking around his desk to sit as Cole left, shutting the old door behind him.

Cullen held his face in his hands, upset with himself that he’d gotten so angry. He hardly loses his temper, not like that. If Lyrium actually enhances his ability to dispel magic, he figured it should be brought to the War Council. More specifically, the Inquisitor.

~*~

Down at the cells, Cullen and Josephine were taking notes on what needed to be improved. One of their prisoners was dying of illness. Interrogations were complete – he had revealed everything he knew. He was a dying man, anyway. Josephine spoke with the guardswoman as Cullen inspected the cells. There, he found Cole inside one of the blocks with the dying prisoner. It was dark. Cullen was about to approach, but stayed back. A green glow was seen in the cell, then it faded. It glowed once more, and faded again. Then many more lights did the same. He left his torchlight to approach the cell Cole and the prisoner shared.

“The stars are so bright… Lustrous lights illuminate the sky. I want to see them once more…”

Cole unscrewed a jar and released fireflies in the cell, encouraging them, lifting them with a slight bit of magical breeze. The man, glossy eyed, saw the blur of their twinkling lights before he finally passed.

“You’re really something…” Cullen muttered, wistful.

“Aren’t we all made of something?”

Cole then disappeared, leaving the fireflies fluttering above. Cullen panicked as visions of Kinloch Hold came back to him. He pushed them back as he returned to Josephine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Dragon Age fic - A good friend of mine suggested me to write Cole/Cullen, because I thought their personalities would be challenging to write. I think I made Cullen too easily accepting and not suspicious enough, though. I apologize. I'll get better as I keep writing, I promise. I'll be getting Asunder for myself, soon, mostly for Cole's past and to get a better grasp at him. Also because Dragon Age, but mostly Cole.


	3. Am I?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole's disappearing and mind tricks make Cullen snap.

Cullen awoke by the morning, rising early so that he could wake the soldiers and work with Blackwall. He moved to his armor stand to dress in his padded layers and moved to slip on his boots.

“Eugh, what in Maker’s name – ”

Cullen hobbled for a moment before sitting down. He tilted the boot to find eggs spill from the inside. There weren’t any shells, however. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was too early for Cole’s antics...

Many were late for their practice, and Blackwall even came to Cullen about the issue.

“You… Didn’t get any _eggs_ in your boots, today, did you?”

Cullen groaned.

“I was hoping no one else did.”

“Yes, we did. It, erm… Was it Cole?”

“Of course it was Cole, who else?”

“Those Avvar people have strange ways.”

“They’d probably put chicken bones in the boots and paint the walls with their blood. This is… More innocent. And twice as annoying.”

They both rallied their troops for more lessons.

~*~

“Cole, the reason for rationing is so that everyone can get an equal share. It is unfair is someone were to receive extra.”

Cassandra crossed her arms, scolding the spirit who stood tall, somewhat hunched and played with his fingers.

“But you like it sweet.”

“Perhaps I do, but I would rather not simply _take_ the extra sugar. You’ve been sneaking honey into Leliana’s tea as well.”

“She likes it that way.”

“ _Sigh_ , Cole. Rationing is taking place in Skyhold for the moment. We do not have the luxury of simply taking pinches of sugar or honey at our leisure. Other people may like some, as well. We won’t take more than necessary.”

“But, no one can see me taking any.”

“We’ve discussed this before. Just because you aren’t seen doesn’t mean it isn’t theft.”

“…Alright.”

Cole was giving Cassandra a stubborn pout, taking a few steps before disappearing. She turned to see him somewhat farther away, walking along toward the tavern he usually skulked about in.

“Cassandra.”

The Seeker turned and spotted Cullen coming from the steps. The War Council had been in session to discuss the retrieval of a certain Tevinter’s amulet.

“Cullen. You wished to speak with me?”

“I would prefer a more private setting. The scouts would be avoiding my office for a few hours, just to be sure.”

“Of course.”

Cullen and she walked along the pathway back up even more steps. Cullen sighed.

“Maker…”

“Feeling a little out of shape, are we?”

“Excuse me? Did the stern seeker herself crack a joke? Must me birthday. Or the end of the world.”

“I would prefer the former, but given current events concerning an archdemon and a darkspawn demigod…”

“Too bad… I’d rather it be my birthday.”

Opening the door for Cassandra, he checked outside with one last glance before shutting the door.

“What is this about, Cullen?” She asked with genuine concern.

Cullen gestured to a chair in front of his desk as he took his own seat. He folded his hands together.

“You made a promise to me once.”

“About the Lyrium?”

“Yes. I… I was hoping you hadn’t forgotten.”

“No… You… You aren’t taking it again, are you?”

“Maker, no! But I… I had been carrying a dagger decorated with Lyrium on me this entire time. Without my knowing, mind you.”

“Where is this dagger?”

“Cole took it from me.”

“What? Why?”

"I told Cole about it. I haven’t told him about your role in this, but… He already knew I was addicted to Lyrium once. He read my mind, he felt my aches. He tried to… Persuade me to take it again.”

“Why on earth—”

"He thought it would help make the pain go away. He’s right, but that’s beside the point. He was trying to help but I made sure to let him know about it. That I’d rather not start taking Lyrium again, that it would hurt more than help.”

“I see… How did he take it?”

“About what you’d imagine. Confused as to why someone would choose pain over relief.”

“It’s more than that.”

“I’ve been trying to tell him that.”

“Right…” Cassandra sat back in her chair, hearing the creak of the old wood.

“Did you call me in here to… Warn me?”

“Sort of… Mostly to let you know that Cole knows about it. And I’ve been meaning to tell the Inquisitor about it, too. He ought to know about it, and... I feel that if he believes the Lyrium were to be of any use, then I would take it again for the sake of the Inquisition. But also that you would take care of _any_ signs of ill content.”

“Cullen.”

“I know, I know… I just…”

“No, do not think I am criticizing you. I am not. But… Ah, I agree that we must inform the Inquisitor… But what if he thinks you ought to take Lyrium again?”

“Then I’ll respect his word and do so.”

“I see…”

“So long as you will keep an eye on me, of course.”

“I will, Cullen. For your sake.”

“Thank you…”

Cullen, however, still felt somewhat panicked. He escorted Cassandra out his door. He was to see Leliana in the garden later to discuss whether there should be a Chantry there or not. He suspected Mother Giselle would also be there. Even as a Revered Mother, she often separated herself from the Chantry to do what was best for people. It would be refreshing to see her opinion on things, as well.

Cullen glanced to a letter. The same letter his sister sent him quite some time ago. He still hasn’t conjured a reply…

Pushing it to the back of his mind, he grabbed his velvet and fur wrap, draping it over his armor. He brought a looking glass out of a drawer to fix his sweaty hair. He headed out. Thankfully, going down the stairs was easier than up. All that paperwork was making a bit softer than he’d like.

He passed the tavern and heard a muffled tune. A passing thought of Cole went through his mind, but he continued on to find Mother Giselle and Leliana in the gardens. Leliana was always focused on growing more herbs, and Mother Giselle agreed. However, the tithe from a Chantry garden would indeed help the Inquisition. And Mother Giselle agreed… She apologized that she could not be of more help and suggested to ask the Inquisitor for their opinion on the matter.

Cullen hated bothering the Inquisitor for so many trivial things, but there was much disagreement among even the advisors. He did, however, enjoy the peace of the garden regardless of whatever it would become. A blur of air hovered by the potted plants, however, and as he came closer, the vision of Cole focused further.

“Flora flourish from favourable conditions.”

Cullen watched silently as Cole spoke, unsure whether the spirit was speaking to him or to the air. He did, however, see him take a few egg shells from a pouch and crush them in his hands, scattering them across the dirt.

“Cole.”

“They mind their own and help us when they can. Giving their own bodies up for health and cure so that we do not have to.”

“Did you by chance… Put _egg_ in everyone’s boots?”

“It keeps the leather strong.”

“You could at least leave a proper note. Everyone was minutes late for training.”

He crossed his arms, teasing the spirit.

“Sorry… I’ll do that next time.”

Cole did not look to Cullen as he scattered more shells.

“What are you doing with the shells..?” Asked Cullen, genuinely curious.

“They soak up what we waste. They mind their own business and are grateful for the gift of rain and chance, growing right beneath our feet.”

“The plants can use egg shells? For nutrition? Or something else?”

“Quiet, gentle, tiny patters loud against the dew-wet petals, eating more than what they need. Like razor blades against their little feet, it keeps them off and deters them to weeds.”

“You mean… The bugs? The eggshells repel insects, then.”

“Healthy herbs make happy healers.”

Cullen chuckled.

“That they do.”

Leliana touched Cullen’s shoulder.

“I have negotiations to consider. The Inquisitor would like you to take some of your soldiers to scout for veridium.”

“Of course. I’ll see to it, then.”

Leliana nodded to Cole and turned back to walk with Mother Giselle.

Cullen looked back to the patch of fertile soil where Cole stood, then turned. The spirit walked alongside him quietly. He needed to get some things from his office before gathering a few soldiers. He considered going with them, this time, and taking a few of their newest with him. He considered how convenient Josephine’s candleboard was for a moment.

“Am I handsome?”

“What?”

“I asked Dorian. He said I was _‘alright.’_ I can’t tell.”

“I, erm… You’re, uh… _ahem_.”

Cullen glanced to Cole who only looked ahead. He didn’t answer for quite some time.

“Cullen?”

“Yes, Cole?”

“Am I handsome?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m handsome?”

“I, erm… You should ask Dorian something like that, I suppose. Or Josephine…”

Cullen coughed awkwardly.

“Cullen.”

“Yes, Cole?”

“Am I attractive?”

“I... What?”

“Do you think I’m attractive?”

“Ah… Well…”

“Cullen?”

“Yes, Cole?”

“Do you think I could be handsome?”

“What?”

“Like Dorian. He says he’s handsome all the time.”

“Where did you get the notion you are… aren’t…”

Cullen stammered, retracting from the doorknob to touch his forehead.

“Cole.”

“Yes, Cullen?”

“How many times have we talked about this…?”

He spoke slowly, cautiously.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you.. Did you _erase_ my mind?”

“O-only some parts. I was making things awkward. I’m sorry.”

Cullen turned towards Cole, trying to scan his own mind desperately. How many times did Cole ask him that, just now? He didn’t remember. That was dangerous.

“ _Cole._ ”

He stood in front of the door, not opening it and crossing his arms. Cole was a hair taller than he was, so his intimidating stance would look odd from outside, but Cole stepped back regardless.

“You _erased_ things from my mind.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

“I don’t need promises, Cole. I need to make sure you actually _won’t_ do it again.”

“I…”

Cullen sighed, uncrossing his arms and rubbed the side of his neck.

“Are you alright…?” asked Cole sincerely.

“I… Yes. I’m fine.”

Cole stepped away and promptly vanished. A tightness hit Cullen in his stomach. He swallowed. He _hated_ when Cole did that… He composed himself enough to turn the knob and enter.

In his office, he gathered up a few papers and tucked them into a book, then pocketed a sliver of charcoal.

As he turned, he jumped and dropped his book, hand around the grip of his sword.

Cole had materialized before him, looking at him with those usual large halla eyes when he sensed pain.

“ ** _Cole_** ,” Cullen warned. He could handle Red Lyrium, a Knight-Commander gone mad, a Tevinter Darkspawn, and even an Archdemon. But _never_ could he shake the fear of questioning the reality of things. He truly wondered at points if Cole was real – If he actually spoke to Cassandra about him at all.

“I am real,” the spirit informed, thin hands lifting to try and ease the tense soldier.

“How do I know that?!”

Cullen’s voice was filled with gravel and grit. Cole felt his tight, stifling insecurity. It was beginning to choke even the spirit.

“I... Y-you don’t trust me… I understand.”

“This is all just an elaborate game, isn’t it?! Is _anything_ real? Am  ** _I_** real?!”

Cole’s voice wavered as he replied slowly. He was nearly as frightened as Cullen.

“I am _so_ sorry. I’ve frightened you. Panic pulses, terror taints… I hurt you. I’m the one who did this.”

Cullen drew his sword, stepping back only to hit the desk. He tripped and stumbled, but quickly brought his sword in a white-knuckle grip, pointing it at Cole. His shield was on the other side, behind Cole…

“You are real..! _I_ am real. We are here, in Skyhold. I’ve hurt you. I-I forgot that you are frightened of it… Of the disappearing. Uldred is dead! The Warden killed him! _And_ those mages!”

“You’re **_lying_**.”

A wild, desperate look flared in Cullen’s eyes. Cole was unsure what to do.

“ ** _No_**. You will _not_ erase my mind again! How many times have you done so?!”

“You _must_ trust me! I.. I can feel myself changing. Adapting. Please, Cullen. **Stop**.”

Cole furrowed his brow. He was scared, but Cullen needed help right now more than anything.

“You are safe here. You are in your office. You must gather soldiers to collect metals for their armor and weapons. You are in Skyhold. Soft light, the pale blue of the sky. Fragile feelings flicker like fire. Think of it… Think of the soft peace and ease as you sat and enjoyed the breeze.”

Cullen hesitated.

 _“Cole…”_ He muttered, though still angry.

“Do you have _any_ … **Stop** disappearing. Stop your tampering. Erasing memories… Do you have **_any_ ** idea what I could have done to you?! Tell me: Am I _really_ at Skyhold? Am I really here..? Are you?”

“Of course you are! I am _so_ sorry. I hurt instead of helped. Are you alright?”

“I can’t lie to you, can I? No. I’m _not_ alright. And you need to stop… All of _that_.”

Cullen ambiguously gestured to Cole’s entirety.

“Alright,” he replied, though meek.

Cullen was shaky, but sheathed his sword. Cole approached him and bent to pick up a stray paper. He snatched the paper from Cole and left him, slamming the door. Cole felt terrible. He was the one who made this happen. He was supposed to _help_. He couldn’t even do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a fantastic third chapter, probably disappointing? But I'm hoping I can transition this way better into the next than what I've done here. There's dumb things that are kind of relevant to the next I'm working on and the last chapter/fifth. At least, I'm aiming for fifth. I have it planned, but it _miiiiight_ take a sixth.  
>  Sigh, the awkward conversation for this... I have a plan. Trust me, yeah?


	4. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole is afraid that if he becomes bound by the wrong person, he will be used to hurt people. Cullen is afraid that if he gives in, he'll be passing the leash from the Inquisition back to the Order.

Cole returned with the others back to Skyhold. They had been camped out at the Hissing Wastes for a fortnight, let alone the days it took to reach Skyhold once more. It was changed, a bit, more soldiers training, more repairs done, holes patched, rugs dusted and cleaned. Cole felt pain linger everywhere, however, and immediately followed his instinct to help the others. Giving water, finding that letter that was never finished, sneak mint with the medicine to help it go down. He walked about as he usually does, heading for his usual place at the tavern, but he felt something rather _un_ usual nearby. It was in the workshop only just across the courtyard. He crept quietly and completely unseen to the door, opening it to find a bent over Cullen and an angry Cassandra.

“Maker, _please_.”

“Cullen. You remember our arrangement, our agreement. I cannot.”

“Please, just… It doesn’t have to be Lyrium. Just _something_ to rid this pain.”

Cassandra heaved a frustrated sigh. Cullen… Cole felt him, his throat burning, fire in his gut, lungs, veins, pain digging, scratching, _itching_ , unable to breathe. It was hard.

“This is like the last time, Cullen. It will pass, just as the time before this, and the time before that. You must keep trying.”

“But..! The _pain_ … The time between these… _attacks_ is shortening. It hurts too much. I _need_ this, Cassandra!”

“No, you don’t. You think you do, but you do not, and you _will_ make it.”

“I… I’m sorry…”

Cullen’s defeated voice was almost too quiet for the spirit to hear. He turned away from the Seeker and forced himself to limp out of the door. Cole moved out of the way before he unknowingly collided with the spirit. He followed Cullen up the steps to his office, lingering outside the door. He made himself visible, remembering that Cullen did not like to watch him appear or disappear and opened the door by hand, also remembering Cullen did not like the way he’d wisp through walls.

The desk was turned over and books, papers, candles, and other such things were scattered along the floor. It must had already been there as he hadn’t heard anything since Cullen went inside. The Commander leaned against the cold stone wall, head pressed against his forearm. He seemed to notice the creak of the door and turned to Cole.

“…Cole? Cole..! You have to help me.”

His voice was weak and his expression desperate.

“You’re in so much pain.”

Even Cole’s voice wavered.

“ ** _Yes_** _._ You _know_ , don’t you? **_Please_** , Cole, I’m _begging_ you… You wanted to help me before. What has changed?! Please, _please_ get me something. It doesn’t have to be Lyrium. It hurts so much, I can’t bear with it any longer!”

Cullen approached the boy, too shaky to stand on his own. Cole held him, an arm beneath Cullen’s and a hand at the man’s bicep. His weight was heavy, but his heart was heavier.

Cullen looked at Cole with a pitiful face.

“Please, Cole, I am asking for your _help_.”

Cole pondered it for only a moment.

“No,” he said assertively.

“What? Why?!”

Cullen was surprised. He shook his head and forced himself away from Cole.

“Why not?! _You_ were the one who wanted me to start using Lyrium again! To end this very pain, no less! And now you’ve changed your mind?!”

“Yes.”

“I… What the _hell_ for?!”

Cole shook his head, feeling his own head pound.

“Blinded by rage, burning with resentment, begging for release; Wandering, wishing, withering away in the hurt of your heart. I can’t help you. No, I can, but not the way you want. I know, now. I know better. You helped me understand. And so did Varric, and everyone else, too. I wanted to give you Lyrium because it would stop the pain, but now I understand. The physical pain hurts, it does, but the guilt, regret, and disappointment; _that_ will hurt even more, later."

“I… _Sigh_ … You’re right…”

Cullen bowed his head. Cole gently placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“You _can_ do this. You are capable. Become their beacon, their chance for change. Show them that it _is_ possible, that they _can_ break away from it. And so. Can. You.”

Cullen turned away, not bothering to look at Cole.

“I’m sorry… I think… I think I need a moment alone.”

“Then, I will leave. You don’t like it when I disappear. I’ll use the door so you can hear. You can watch me, if you like.”

Curious yet appreciative, he made himself look up at the boy. Cole glanced back at him before turning and walking. His steps were careful, almost too careful, and he reached for the handle and turned the knob.

He glanced once more to Cullen, who was watching him very closely, yet still looked so far away.

  
“Stay strong,” he ordered more than said.

He opened the door and left. It wasn’t until he was out of Cullen’s sight, door shut behind him, that he made himself invisible again.

~*~

Some days had gone by as Cullen asked for Blackwall and Quartermaster Threnn to fill in for him. He did not let it be known it was the Lyrium, asking that those who ask be told it was a fever, and that he would prefer to stay in his quarters for the time being, working on letters and mapping.

Josephine had told him about an amulet Cole was searching for. Apparently, he had his own panic not long after Cullen’s Lyrium fit. Feeling better, and less in pain, he gathered a few papers and set them on his desk. It would be better to find Cole on his own – the scouts wouldn’t be able to see him.

He walked carefully down the wooden steps into the attic of the tavern. There Cole was. He seemed agitated. Usually, Cullen noted that the boy fidgets, but this was more than usual. It looked as if he were muttering, as well. He was cautious in his approach, more for Cole’s sake than his own.

“Cole?”

“I can’t let them take me. They will not have me, _cannot_. I’m not like that. _Gasp_ … Oh. Cullen.”

“Are you alright?”

“No.”

Cole crossed his arms.

“I hear you’ve been trying to keep yourself from binding.”

Cullen leaned against the wooden beam, eyes on Cole. His hat shielded his eyes.

“No. I need to be bound. B-but for the Inquisition, not for anyone else.”

“Do you think it’ll work? This amulet?”

“I’m hoping it will.”

“And… If it doesn’t?”

“Then you _must_ kill me.”

Cullen felt his own frown deepen.

“You’re serious?”

“ _Yes_.”

“I see…”

“It’s no different.”

“Excuse me?”

“From you and Cassandra. She will kill you if you become addicted and out-of-mind.”

“Right… I… Suppose we’re more similar than I thought.”

“Are we?”

“I think so.”

Cole looked up. His eyes looked sunken. He looked tired, most of all. Cullen almost saw himself.

“It could be hard, slaying you if you ever become a demon.”

“You know what I am, and you didn’t run away or try to hurt me… A-and I _appreciate_ that. So much. But I would never willingly hurt you. If I ever do become a demon, you must kill me. For everyone’s sake, and for yours. I won’t hurt you. I don’t want to.”

“I know that. Cole… I hope it works out for you.”

“Me too.”

“I… Have some time, if you’d like to walk with me. I have to take this to Leliana.” He motioned to rolled papers he was holding.

“…Sure.”

Cole kept himself invisible to Leliana, but was able to choose to let Cullen see him.

“Y-you go on… I’ll stay,” muttered Cole as they went downstairs to the library.

“Of course. I’ll be with the War Council if you need anything.”

“Alright.”

Cullen continued to descend but Cole stayed behind. He walked into a small cubby in the library where Dorian was. The necromancer picked out a book, thumbing through the pages; few had the extensive writing Dorian was looking for on Tevinter. He _supposed_ he could forgive the Skyhold library as it was in shambles to begin with.  He mused at the colorful depictions of Tevinter blood magic by the Fereldon authors. It was absolute blasphemy, of course, but he laughed to himself about their misconceptions. Well, they weren’t _wrong_ , but they were definitely descriptive. Though, after some time, it was growing old and annoying.

He looked up, jumping and stumbling out of the cubby, grabbing onto the handrail.

“Maker’s _breath,_ Cole!”

The boy had apparated in front of the mage, startling him more than he’d meant.

“I’m sorry,” he said, tone flat but a genuine expression on his face.

Dorian patted his own chest over his heart and laughed, a swagger in his walk as he stepped towards Cole. The spirit fiddled his fingers.

“What can I do for this surprise visit?”

“I was wanting to ask you something.”

“Oh, I do love questions. Is it about me? Of course it is, why else would you come here.”

“Am I attractive?”

“I… What?”

“I don’t think that’s the same as _handsome_ , right? Am I attractive?”

“ _This_ again? Are you insecure? You’re alright. I could see you with maybe some young and naïve little thing, picking flowers or something together… Is there… Someone you’re trying to impress? You know I prefer the company of other men, yes?”

“That’s why I came.”

“Oh! _Well_ then, if it’s advice for other men, then… Why not ask, say… Well, Cassandra’s sort of... Bullheaded, isn’t she. More than the Bull itself. _He_ wouldn’t know romance if it bit him in the ass. And trust me, it _has_. Ahah. _Ahem_. Leliana doesn’t seem the type to really care about that sort of thing right now… Then… Joesephine? Andraste's grace, of course not. You were right to come to me. Might I ask who this lucky person is to have such, ah… erm… Youth? Giving them second glances?”

“Ser Cullen.”

Dorian crossed his arms, pursing his lips. He wasn’t unhappy, just surprised.

He spoke slowly and carefully, hoping not to offend the young man.

“Cullen? I… Don’t think you’re his  _type_ …”

“Am I too ugly?”

The mage boffed, leaning slightly forward before straightening himself.

“ _Ugly_ is a strong word, isn’t it? I wouldn't say ugly. Plain, but not ugly.”

Dorian joked but his smile faded. Cole looked disappointed.

“I’m sorry. That was terrible of me, wasn’t it?”

“It’s alright… I understand.”

Dorian rubbed his mouth.

“No, Cole... I was _joking_. I don’t actually mean it. Sort of.” His voice softened. “Look. You aren’t ugly. I just meant… I don’t think other young men interest Cullen, much.”

“Why not?”

“That’s an interesting question. Same reason I don’t care for women in the same sense. I just don’t.”

He shrugged, shifting to lean against the bookcase.

“Oh.”

“Not that you couldn’t try a little flirting for the sake of it. He’s the traditional type, but, ah… He doesn’t seem the type to be on the _receiving_ end of things, I don’t think. You know, you could always just ask, too.”

“I asked him if I was handsome. Or attractive. I made things awkward.”

“Yes, you tend to do that, don’t you. Well, you don’t just _ask_ if you’re handsome. You _say_ it!”

“And that makes me handsome?”

“Of course. What else?”

“What about Cullen?”

“What about him?”

“He’s handsome, but he doesn’t say he is.”

Dorian tilted his head, just slightly, touching his knuckles to his chin. He had the most curious look on his face.

“You think he’s handsome?”

“Don’t you?”

“Hmm… But you don’t know if _you’re_ handsome?”

“Yes…”

Cole had the slightest bit of annoyance on his face. It was… Different to see him have such a vast range of emotions. Dorian was so used to his aloof attitude and cryptic remarks that he definitely noticed the twitch of his lip as he pouted, or that incredibly slight narrowing of his eyes. Cassandra did that, narrow her eyes. Cullen did that pout, too. Was he inheriting everyone’s little quirks? The thought amused him. What would Cole inherent from him, he wondered.

“How about this: do you want _him_ to think you’re handsome? Or yourself?”

Cole crossed his arms. He was caught so off guard by the question, he didn’t know what to make of it.

“I... Don’t want to make anyone think anything.”

“Hmm… Is that a little white lie I’m hearing?” Dorian teased.

“No!” Cole snapped. “No, I am _not_ lying. I-I don’t lie. I’m not supposed to lie. It was a promise. Lies hurt people. I don’t hurt people. I’m not like _him_.”

Dorian put up his hands and they bounced in the air a few times.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry. But, Cole. _Not_ lying can hurt, too, you know. Telling people the truth about things, about a wife’s husband cheating on her with another man, a poor woman who lost her son to a blighted madness… Do you tell them? Or would you tell the wife that her husband be dead so she can move on? Or that a woman’s son fought bravely even if he didn’t? They hurt either way, but really… It’s up to you to help them figure it out. Lying _can_ help. My, now I’ve run my mouth on a completely different subject. Could we go back to talking about handsome men?”

“But… I could just make her forget her husband.”

“And by not telling her, that is, essentially, lying. Lying without words, mind you, but lying.”

“So I’ve… I’ve been lying to these people? This whole time?”

“Apparently.”

Cole had something new to dwell on.

“I… Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Cole’s thoughts promptly fell back to Cullen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last part will focus on Human!Cole/Cullen. I'll start working on a Solas/Cole fic to focus on Spirit!Cole later.  
> I'll be sure to make the last part especially adorable. Kisses.


	5. Captivated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole is captivated by the emotions stirring in Cullen. Cullen is as well.

Cole scoured the map, closing his eyes, shaking his head, opening his eyes, looking over the map frantically, repeating these steps over and over. Cullen’s arms crossed. He was concerned. He wanted to help Cole get this amulet to work for him if it could help. Something was keeping it from working.

“Cole… Do you ned to rest?”

“No.”

His voice was a little higher than usual, still frantic.

“There… Somewhere. Just a little longer.”

Cullen marked the map, crossing out areas for Cole. They eventually came upon a small clearing of a village, just small enough to not be considered a city.

“ _There_.”

Cole turned on his heel, trotting across the floor without another word. Cullen was definitely worried. It was agitating Cole this much… He wished he could go with them, but he needed to stay at Skyhold. He hoped Solas and Varric would be able to keep watch over him. Varric of course told him not to worry, that Cole needed to sort out his feelings.

Cole returned some days later, and Cullen fought off wanting to see him immediately. He let a couple hours pass by before excusing himself from his office, pushing the scout aside and jogging to the tavern. Cole was sitting on one of the barrels, hat covering his eyes as he played with his fingers. Cullen smiled and walked slowly to him, the creak of boards alerting Cole if he didn’t sense him already. He had one leg up on a barrel, his other foot tapping the wood as he rocked at the same time. It was a quirk of Cole’s that Cullen found… Utterly Cole. He assumed it helped him think, as he sometimes heard the spirit murmur to himself or touch his fingers together, lips forming unintelligible words. He was sure Cole was actually stringing together real words, but sometimes it was hard to hear. Cullen then felt odd that he had been trying to listen in the first place. He cleared his throat, smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

“Did the amulet work for you, Cole?”

The young man shook his head. Cullen felt his smile fade.

“Oh… I’m sorry… Is there an alternative?”

Cole looked up to Cullen, eyes glossy and more red than usual. Had he been crying? Does he feel that sort of thing?

Cullen didn’t hesitate to kneel beside the young man, hand on Cole’s thigh, another at his arm. Cole was higher up than him, but that was fine. Cullen focused on wanting to help him, right now.

“Cole?”

“It hurts.”

“What does? Tell me.”

Cole moved his arms around his stomach, biting his lip.

“Somewhere here… Does it ever stop hurting?”

“A stomach ache…?”

Cole shook his head.

“No… Pain. Hurt. I-it hurts… Dull, digging, deep in the gut. Visceral vacancy.”

“Cole… What happened when you left?”

“I found him. The Templar who killed me.”

Cullen’s mouth fell ajar slightly.

“I... What?”

“He _killed_ me. No, he killed _him_. Cole. The real one.”

“You found the Templar who killed Cole…” Cullen echoed, still in disbelief.

“He **_killed_** me. He found Cole, an apostate, and locked him up, but he _forgot_ about him. He forgot and Cole _starved_ to _death!_ –” Cole’s breath wavered; it was breaking Cullen’s heart. “He was dying when I came to him. Magic did this to him. He wanted to live a normal life, he never wanted any of this. Then, I became him. And I _needed_ to kill him.”

“You killed the Templar?!”

Cole sighed, arms tightening around himself, head lowered enough for his hat to fall.

“No…”

“Cole…”

“I didn’t kill him. I wanted to, but what would it accomplish? Just more pain…”

Cole was speaking somewhat more clearly than usual. Less cryptic remarks and naturally occurring alliterations or rhyming.

“I’m more human now.”

He turned to look at Cullen. He wondered if his speaking quirks were absent because of that, or simply because he was upset and in pain. He wanted to help him ease that pain. Cole had done so much for him, Cullen wanted to help him in turn.

“You can still hear people’s thoughts?”

“Yes… You were concerned. Anxious and alert, anticipating that I had been… altered, somehow. Not changed physically, but something is distinctly different, dazed and defeated, doesn’t he look distant? I was pulled away from my purpose.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Cullen wasn’t sure what he didn’t mean. He hadn’t meant for Cole to feel that, he supposed.

Cole stood, shifting on his feet, somewhat eager to move about. Cullen pushed himself from his knees, picking up the young man’s hat and brushing off dirt. He stood in front of Cole, who wasn’t looking anywhere in particular, and smoothed out his hair to rest his hat.

“Could we… Go somewhere?” asked Cole.

“Where did you have in mind?”

“Anywhere…”

Cullen noticed the quieted urgency in Cole’s voice. He opened his arm to place it along Cole’s back, leading him.

“Would the gardens be alright?”

“No. Yes.”

“Do you… Need someplace more private?” Cullen didn’t hide his concern.

Cole stopped walking, looking away as if he were embarrassed. He kicked his foot. The more Cullen was around him, the more child-like he seemed. It was… Strange to think of him as such. Some days he was a ruthless fighter with a blank stare that made him shiver. Other days, he was quiet, fidgety, out of place, looking like a lost child as he sat as a spectator to watch everything go by.

“Can we go to your office?”

“Of course.”

Cullen reached his arm across Cole’s back to hold his opposite shoulder. It wasn’t far, and it made Cole more comfortable. Cole didn’t say anything as they walked. Cullen forgot he was holding Cole until they found Solas, who was crossing the bridge toward the tavern with a freshly cleansed set of paint brushes. The slight quirk of his head made Cullen recoil his arm.

“Cole, you seem tense. Cullen is taking care of you, I presume?”

“Yes. We’re going to his office.”

“I see. And how is your new… Personhood treating you, Cole?”

“It’s difficult… But I will be alright.”

“That is good. Do take care of him, Commander.”

Solas made a slight bow to the two of them. Cullen was stiff as he felt the blood rush so quickly to his face, he felt a little faint. He wasn’t sure if Cole noticed, but he certainly did – the lingering eyes that saw more than Cullen realized. The mage wouldn’t gossip, he wasn’t that type of person. How did it look to Solas exactly? Cullen tried to laugh it off in his head, but he only made himself more nervous. He felt Cole’s hand on his forearm. He was brought back from his thoughts and smiled warmly to the boy who stayed silent.

He opened the door only to be greeted by a scout holding a clipboard. He exhaled slowly, giving the scout a glare as he looked over the paper. He was given a quill and filled in a curt response.

After the scout left hurriedly, Cole spoke.

“Leliana wanted him to speak with you. I think it was important.”

“It’ll just have to wait.”

Cole glanced to a small table in the corner. A couple wooden boxes lay on the floor, one open and empty. A chess board was set, a few pieces sprawled along a chair. Cullen noticed Cole eying it.

“Would you like to play?”

“Rhys taught me how to play.”

“Your mage friend?”

“Yes. Thank you for helping him and Evangeline. They remember me…”

Cullen smiled to him even if he didn’t see. He picked up the stray pieces and made room for another chair. Cole took his time to strategize, but he wasn’t a bad player. He had Cullen’s pieces on the run for a time.

“We’ll beat her. She can’t keep winning forever.”

Cullen smiled warmly at the memory Cole spoke aloud. His brother and he were practicing, hoping to beat their sister.

“Fluttering…” mumbled Cole. Cullen asked him to repeat it.

“No.”

The Commander was caught off guard a little. Cole usually wasn’t so straight forward. Thankfully, he didn’t sound upset.

“Why not?” The words tumbled out before he could stop.

Cole looked at him with a furrowed brow. Was he angry?

“Just… because.”

“…Alright.”

Cullen wasn’t bothered, per se, though he was much more curious now than before.

Cole sucked in his lips as he realized he was beat. Cullen had a smug grin he didn’t even try to contain. But that made Cole smile, too. He wasn't crying anymore.

“I’m happy for you.”

“You’re a good opponent.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“No. I mean. _Thank_ you. Thank you for helping me find the Templar. For showing me where to look on the map. You helped find the amulet, too…”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work.”

“No. It doesn’t need to work, now. I’m not a spirit anymore. Not really.”

“So… You are? Human, I mean.”

“Yes. Sort of. Maybe?”

“You’re really something, you know.”

“You’ve… Said that to me before.”

“Have I?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. It’s a compliment, isn’t it?”

“It’s… I guess it is.”

Cole looked up to the man.

“You’re nervous.”

“Pardon?”

“You’ve done so well to get where you are now. You have no idea what you’re doing to me. All good things, but still things.”

Cullen felt his throat tighten.

“Cole,” he managed. “I appreciate your help, but… how exactly did you do that? I thought you only heard what people needed help with.”

“But, you do need my help.”

“No. I don’t.” Cullen was trying not to be short with him. He crossed his arms.

“I want to help you… And sometimes, help doesn’t mean hurt. It means nerves. You can kiss me if you’d like.”

Cullen nearly choked on air.

“E-excuse me?”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

“Cole, no, I just—”

“I want you to be happy.”

Cullen stood with a sigh. The younger man stood to follow him across the room to the book shelf. Cullen turned to him. Cole felt Cullen’s hand on his cheek, gloved thumb ghosting across the bags beneath his large, sad looking eyes.  

“You care. You care so much, too much even.”

“I’m sorry.”

Cullen shook his head, sliding his hand down to Cole’s shoulder.

“Please, don’t be. It’s what’s so good about you.”

Cullen’s voice was soft and genuine. His other hand removed Cole’s hat, setting it on the empty wooden chair. He touched his cheekbone and smoothed back Cole’s hair to the back of his neck. The Once-Captain pulled Cole closer, gently, tilting his own face to touch their lips. Cole’s fingers touched. He eventually closed his eyes, pressing ever slightly into Cullen’s kiss. Cullen felt how soft his lips were against his own chapped and scarred mouth. Cole’s slight overbite, his smooth skin… Most people had a taste to them. Cole was like spring water. He was cautious, quiet, careful not to scare the boy. Their noses brushed.

Cullen parted from their gentle kiss, forehead touching Cole’s. Both hands held the young man’s naturally pink-dusted cheeks, thumbs smooth along the heavy, dark circles. They brought out how bright his eyes were. He was so pale… Cullen noticed the dark, small veins at his neck and jawline, creeping and disappearing at his cheeks. Cole exhaled through his lips.

“You were holding your breath..?” Cullen whispered, dazzled by how… Romantic their exchange felt.

“Yes,” Cole whispered back.

Cullen pressed their cheeks together, murmuring by Cole’s ear, “I suppose we can work on that.”

Cole leaned his weight into Cullen very slightly.

“We’re going to kiss again?”

“Hm, well, yes…? Unless. Unless you don’t want to. We don’t have to. I’m sorry, I should have—”

“No, it’s alright. I liked it. It was warm and welcoming for the captivated captain.”

“Captivated… Yes, I suppose I am…”

Cullen couldn’t help how dreamy his voice sounded.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally kissed. And it looks like It'll have a sixth chapter after all. I finally finished my playthrough and bought Asunder. That said, the last chapter will be around the end of the game and post game.  
> I debated on adding smut or not and decided not to. I'll do a separate work. This one is an ace!Cole fic. As someone who is also ace, I sure do love smut, though. Ahem. Anyway. Hope you liked it.  
> Happy Belated Holidays. I think Kwanzaa's still to come, actually.


	6. The After-War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, wrapping it up. Cullen and Cole fought in battle and seek to take a rest from the Glory and Victory thrust upon them.

Cole was becoming slightly more brazen around Cullen, beginning to seek him out, even. Before, Cullen would always be the one looking for Cole, and usually still did, but the time Cole sought him out, he would do one of two things: steal a kiss from him then and there, then erase the mind of those who saw (specifically for the purpose of getting Cullen stuttering with embarrassment – he _knew_ Cole wasn’t stupid), or simply wait until Cullen was done with what he needed to get done with, shifting from foot to foot idly.

They were starting to see one another less and less, Cullen having to leave with a small company every now and again, or needing to join Blackwall, Commander Helene, and Quartermaster Threnn with the soldiers to train them for real battle.  It was tiresome and wearing Cullen down. He thrived on the little visits Cole provided him with, playing their little chess games and occasionally press their foreheads together in a quiet time-passing moment between them.

It wasn’t until the threat of Corypheus was drawn nearer that Cullen became worried, paranoid even. Cole began to stray from the rafters to Cullen’s room, often wiping a sheen of sweat off the man’s face as he awoke from night terrors.

“You began to wail,” Cole said once.

“I don’t know what’s real anymore,” Cullen would reply, tired and distraught.

Every now and again he would dream that Red Lyrium and the Rifts and Corypheus were all a part of an elaborate dream as he was stuck in the Fade; that he only vaguely remembered Leliana before him with the Warden. Cole would try to kiss away his fears, but the spirit knew they still lingered. It was harder to help, being human now. He had to dig, nearly physically to get to gritty emotions. Cole found out that Cullen responds greatly to his gentle caress and fluttery kisses, jarring him from his nightmares. Cullen especially appreciated how readily Cole’s lanky body curled against him during these times.

_Blood freezing, fists fighting, bitter breathing as I pray to the Holy Maker for safety. My safety, the world’s safety, my comrade’s, the Inquisition's, and his, too._

Cole shook his head, keeping Cullen’s thoughts at bay to focus on the task at hand, thrusting his blades through the armors of Templars and darkspawn and demons. Fear demons tried to get into his head the way he did others – he wouldn’t allow that. He danced a dance of death, daggers darting. The earth then shook and broke into pieces as it rose. Cole saw parts of the Inquisition split up among the rocks. He leapt back to the ground, but somehow regretted so, wishing he could have joined the Inquisitor to help. No, he was needed down here.

Searing pain echoed in his head. Screams, groans, growls, moans... It was like Haven, but worse. Much worse. Terror, more than before; dread, death, and dragons.

Blood spilled and dirt stained until finally the earth floating came crashing down. The dust pushed Cole and many others to the ground. There the Inquisitor and the few companions that followed stood. It was silent, and no one cheered, no one dared. Did Corypheus die? While sadness filled the air of lost comrades, Solas’ despair filled him further. Something… went wrong. And it broke.

He felt a clasp at his shoulder and looked up to see a hand before him, waiting for him to take it. Velvet and fur and metal and feline. Cullen was alive and Cole felt most relived then and there.

~*~

Rocking while sitting, Cole wondered where Solas had gotten to. His memory was… Fading. Eventually, Solas completely slipped his mind, the echoes of a conversation kept him curious.

Cole still felt needed here, in Skyhold. He couldn’t return to the fade, he was too heavy, too attached to this world. But that was alright. He slipped through the patrons, a handful still able to forget him. He came to Cullen’s side, and he man jumped, having not heard him.

Cole apologized.

 “Ah, Cole, it’s good to see you. How are you enjoying yourself?”

Cole tilted his head at the question as a finger touched his lips.

“I am talking to you.”

Cullen smiled, not bothering to correct himself.

“There’s still much to be done, here. Armies to keep track of, repairs to handle... This isn’t the end of the Inquisition, you know.”

“Yes. Cassandra told me about it, and about the Old Inquisition. It’s reborn, like a spirit.”

“I suppose it is.”

“And it will continue forever?”

“So long as we are needed, I suppose.”

Cullen adjusted his hand to rest against the hilt of his blade as usual, feeling more relaxed. Cole could sense it as he nodded.

“Forever, then,” he muttered to himself.

“That begs the question.”

“I didn’t mean to beg.”

“No, Cole… I mean… It reminded me of something. What are you going to do, now? Are you… Staying with the Inquisition?”

“Yes.”

Cullen felt relieved.

“I have lots to do. Everyone here is weighted with grief. I need to help them. And then I can help the Inquisition. And then, help the people for the Inquisition. I don’t think I’ll be going any time soon. For as long as the Inquisition stays, anyway.”

Cullen chuckled, “Forever, then?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad…”

Cullen wanted to pull the young man closer, to hug him tightly, even kiss him sweetly, but refrained from doing so. Mostly for the unwanted publicity, thanks to the side glances Varric was giving him, and the snickers from Bull, and Sera, and, well, everyone for that matter. He was embarrassed, though Cole didn’t seem to mind, or even notice.

“Stifling. It’s beginning to grow hot.”

Cole’s words carried a weighted tone that Cullen recognized as him reading thoughts.

“Ah, yes.”

“Would you like fresh air?”

Cullen glanced to Cole, seeing how his fingertips touched just as they always do when he thought or waited. A smiled tugged at his lips.

“Only if you care to join me.”

Cullen lead on, heading through one of the side doors as not to cause too much of a disturbance. They walked up the stairway, feeling the heat dissipate already. The crisp air nipped as they walked along the outer walls. Stopping before his office door, Cullen brought Cole’s hand to his lips. Despite his reduced sensitivity to thoughts and feelings, Cullen wanted to continue to refrain from lying to him about anything. He felt it made him a better person.

“Would you like to play a game?”

Cole smiled, nodding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I got bombarded with homework for a while. I know its kinda short, but I've been aiming at it for a while now.  
> Feel free to throw me ideas for other ships, or more of this one. Not necessarily requests, but I might do a couple if I find time.


End file.
